His Hands.

His hands.

—

It’s such a small thing, hardly noticeable. Henrik’s gaze flicks over when he hears Jackie enter his lab, rummaging through his bandages until he finds a couple to wrap around his wrists. Jackie’s knuckles are bruised and bleeding, but his expression is stoic as ever, lips a thin line as he marches back out, probably going to wrap his hands up for healing purposes. Henrik watches him leave, wondering what triggered this bout of injuries, but he doesn’t follow.

He already knows Jackie won’t answer. He turns back to his work, figuring he’ll ask later, maybe over a cup of tea.

Jackie sits down in the living room to wrap his hands. Jameson is already sitting there, turning over a piece of wood in his hands, wondering what to carve next. He flicks his gaze up hopefully, wanting to move closer to Jackie and ask him for company, but Jameson says nothing when he notices Jackie’s fingers. They’re trembling lightly while Jackie wraps his knuckles up tightly, mouthing swear words to himself as he hisses back pain. Though his expression remains stoic, Jameson can see pain in Jackie’s eyes, so he lowers his gaze and turns back to his block of wood.

Maybe he’ll carve something later, or speak with Jackie when he’s not in a bad mood. He says nothing when he hears Jackie get up and storm away.

It’s a few days later, and Chase is sitting on the edge of Jackie’s bed. He’s rambling on about a project he wants done, while Jackie is typing out and organizing notes for him. Jackie’s always been the faster typer, but Chase stops briefly when he glances down at Jackie’s keyboard. Have Jackie’s fingers always been swollen? They look redder than normal. He opens his mouth to comment, but when he sees the impatient look on Jackie’s face, he dives right back into his ramblings, hoping to forget the brief but silent exchange.

He’ll worry about it later when they aren’t both in the middle of doing important work. Right now, he needs to focus.

Later that evening, Jackie and Marvin are lounging on the couch together. Laughing over stupid jokes, knocking back cans of soda and eating various junk foods. It’s a simple evening with nothing to worry about, until Marvin takes Jackie’s hand in his own. Not to hold, but to inspect. The mood shifts from light-hearted to more somber as Marvin falls silent, tracing along the many callouses along Jackie’s fingers, the faded scars, the bruises, healing cuts, and swollen pads.

How long had Jackie’s hands been like this?

His hands had been used for so much. Marvin sees Jackie grabbing at a falling Chase to save him from heights. He can see Jackie reaching a hand out to a lonely Jameson, who’s reaching back to take that offered friendship. Jackie’s hands prying a grief-filled Henrik away from a deceased patient, to guide Henrik away and pull him in for a hug.

Jackie’s hands have reached out to nudge Marvin into continuing his magic against all other odds, when reality should have had the magician sprawling back into oblivion. Jackie’s hands had always been there to hold him upright.

To hold all of them upright when they wanted to fall.

To hold the city in one piece, even without thanks for all the work he’s done.

Reaching for the most broken down person, always with a smile on his face, always with new scars on his fingers.

His hands have always been there, always a symbol of safety.

How had Marvin not noticed before? He glances up briefly to see Jackie watching him, an expression of melancholy on his face. He doesn’t need to peek into Jackie’s mind to know what the hero is feeling.

They both already know.

Silently, Marvin conjures up a bottle of lotion and rests the bottle in his lap. He keeps hold of Jackie’s hand, spreading the fingers out wide so he can start massaging them.

Silently, the others come trickling in, with snacks of their own, but the food isn’t what they’re focused on either. Chase is taking Jackie’s other hand in his own, giving it a squeeze before mirroring Marvin’s movements.

If Jackie’s hands can do so much for them, imagine what they can all do for Jackie.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!!! SPOOKS FOR ALL!!!!

I’d thought I’d draw what I’m dressing up as!!

I’m sorry if I don’t know how to draw a gun, this is my first time!!!

Reference from: @inspiredrawaw

“What’s a fate worse than death? Continuing to live.”

and

“That was pain, this is suffering.”

i think are two of my favorite quotes from unus annus

2 kids getting along

The clock never stop for anyone

I never really make any unus annus drawing, so I thought I might as well make something before the time is no more

Ooh,say,would you like to do “How can I trust you?” with Anti and Marvin? :D

TW: drug mention

-----------

The couch faced the TV, set in the middle of the open living area with a coffee table in front of it and small stands on both sides. The TV mounted on the wall was off, the room quiet except for the buzz of electronics filling the air. Marvin glanced down at his clothes; far too big for his frame, too soft, too well taken care of.

He moved over to the couch, curling up in a corner, keeping his hands tucked into the sleeves of the sweater and into fists- just in case. The man on the opposite end of the couch looked like him- but too well kept, too clean, too kind.

Dopplegangers were the only option that made sense. Dopplegangers.

"One or two, maybe....not five of us..." Marvin muttered, staring at the other man who's eyes were too kind.

Jack pressed his lips together, nodding. "I know. But the evidence is right here...all 5 of us. I don't really get it either..." He smiled and shrugged, watching the kid in front of him. Someone so small, despite their height. So hardened, with his gaze constantly flikering around the room, looking for something Jack couldn't place. "Hey...your name is Marvin, right?"

Marvin nodded once, keeping the sleeves down on his sweater. His skin prickled, feeling like small daggers or sparks of white noise. He kept his gaze moving, trying to find the source. No one in sight except for the man in front of him. Still too kind.

"I'm Jack. I uh, met Henrik first, he's kinda weird but I love him 'cause of it, you know? He really just wants to help people, hes just brash, is all. He'd also really like to look you over, if you'd let him..."

Marvin shook his head. "No. I'll end up hurting him." These people were fucking idiots.

"I don't think so, but I won't push you, if you're uncomfortable with it. I just want you safe." He shook his head, still keeping a gentle smile. Marvin glanced at him, watching him twitch before recovering like nothing happened. Jack kept moving his hands as he talked. "You know Jackie now, he brought you home, yeah? He's really cool, I didn't think I'd meet a real live superhero." He chuckled, watching Marvin, trying to bring a smile to his face.

Marvin stared at him, rubbing his arm, the pinpricks starting to get on his nerves. "I don't care," he snapped, mouth turning into a scowl. Jack startled, jumping slightly and opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. "I don't fucking care! Why should I care about how you met?? Or who you fucking are?? I don't give a rat's ass!" Bright blue flames licked out the sides of his balled up hands and he stood, getting away from the couch. He kept his eyes fixated on Jack, though he felt the pinpricks intensify as he stood. "Are any of you drug dealers?"

"I-" Jack's eyes were wide as he pressed himself a bit into the couch. "No-"

Marvin bit the inside of his cheek then laughed, bitter. "Then how does that doctor get the fucking meds." He clicked his tongue. "No liscened doctor acts like him. Only the black market ones do that. Are you stupid? How the fuck does a man like him get medical grade drugs? Because it's fucking obvious he's not a doctor." Flames coiled up his arms, hot and ready to attack. The pinpricks settled for a moment, as if enjoying the show.

"He- I met him while he was practicing in a hospital." Jack watched the flames, entranced in their nature. They danced and sparked like normal flames, though they colored bright and dark blue, like a science experiment.

Marvin laughed again, shaking his head. "You have no idea what's out there. You're a fucking idiot."

Jack opened his mouth to speak, shell shocked. He closed his mouth a few moments later, not sure what to say to defend his friend. "I am not-"

"Shut up. Just shut up!" Flames flared around him, singing the floor black. "I was told I could trust you!" White-blue sparks flew, nearly setting the furniture on fire. "I should have known better! You're fucking lying out the gate! How could I trust you?? You're an idiot who doesn't know illegal drugs when it's in your own goddamn house!"

Jack laughed, the sound unnatural, doubled over, and piercing. "You're smart. I like you."

Flames concentrated around his hands, flaring around his fists like angry tentacles. "...don't touch me." The common signs of being manipulated.

"I don't think I can, with that kind of flame." He grinned, teeth shark-like and eyes glowing neon green. "But you're smart. No one else has asked that."

"They're fucking stupid." Marvin felt himself shaking, the pinpricks on his body attacking him like needles stabbing through fabric.

"̴T̴he͝y̸ ͏wo͞n't̷ ͢be̛ a҉s ͘fu̵n as ̶you͜." His voice had an undertoned whirr in it, like a VCR being rewound.

Marvin glared, flames growing. "Name. Now."

"̛Yo̡u ́d҉o͘n̨'́t̸ ̨carȩ ab͡out na͠m͠es.̀"

Before he could retort, Jack coughed, doubling over and holding his head. "Fuck me, mate..."

Marvin took another step back, flames rescinding to a safer level, flicking around his body like a blanket. "I'll get the doctor." He turned and stormed away, pinpricks still following in his tracks.